As is true of every Wynne I ever knew, when in danger I became cool at once. I lost no time, but pressed him hard with a glad sense that he was no longer my master at the game. I meant to kill him, and as he fell back I knew that at last his hour had come. I think he too knew it. He fenced with caution, and was as cool as I. Just as I touched him in the right shoulder I felt a wounded Hessian clutch my leg. I fell squarely backward, my cousin lunging savagely as I dropped. I had been done for had not Jack struck up his blade as I lay, calling out: “Coward!” I was up in a moment, pretty savage, and caught sight of my Jack fencing with my man, as calm as if we were in old Pike’s gallery. As I stood panting--it was but a moment--I saw Jack’s blade whip viciously round Arthur’s and pass through his breast, nearly to the guard. My cousin cried I know not what, fell to one side, and then in a heap across a dead grenadier. “Better I than thou,” cried Jack, blowing hard. “He will play no more tricks. Come on!” “With a glance at my enemy I hurried past him over dead and wounded men, a cannon upset, muskets cast away, and what not. “This way, Wynne,” said the marquis. “_C’est fini!_ Get those fellows together, gentlemen.” Our men were huddling the prisoners in a corner and collecting their arms. A red-faced New Hampshire captain was angrily threatening Major Campbell, the commander of the redoubt, who had just surrendered. Colonel Hamilton struck up the captain’s blade, or I do believe he would have killed the major. He was furious over the death of Colonel Seammel, who was greatly beloved, and had been killed by Hessians after having given up his sword. [Illustration: THE DUEL Page 504 Hugh Wynne] [Transcriber’s Note: Two men are fighting with swords, as a third looks on. There appears to be flame, smoke, or clouds in the background.] It was over, and I went back to see what had become of Arthur. He was alive, and having dragged himself to the inner wall of the redoubt, was now seated against it. Jack soon found a lantern, and by its light we looked at Arthur. He was covered with blood, but was conscious, and stared at me with dull eyes, without power to say a word. “Take care of him, Jack,” said I, and went away down the crumbled slope and through the broken abatis, while overhead the bombs howled with unearthly noises and the cannonry broke out anew. I was still angry that I had not killed the man, and went off to my tent in no very happy state of mind, so tired in body that I could not sleep for hours.